Santa by Any Other Name
by LadyofDodge
Summary: A slight variation on "P.S. Murry Christmas."


**Santa by Any Other Name **

**Kitty placed three steaming mugs of coffee on the felt-covered table and reached into the pocket of her black skirt. "What do you suppose this is, Matt?" She handed him a small yellow balloon, just barely inflated, a rolled slip of paper tied to it with dirty twine.**

"**Well, now, I'm not an expert, Kitty, but I'd say it's a piece of paper tied to a balloon." He turned to the elderly physician who was the third person at the table. "What do you think, Doc?"**

**The older man took it in his hand and scrutinized it. "By golly, I think you're on to something there, Marshal. It **_**does**_** look like a balloon and a piece of paper. And they're joined together by a piece of string—very dirty string, I might add."**

"**Oh, you men are **_**so**_** clever," Kitty retorted as she grabbed the object under discussion from the doctor's hand. "Thing is, I found it on the back balcony this morning when I went out to shake the rug. How do you suppose it got there?"**

"**Floated in from some place would be my guess," was Doc's less than helpful reply. **

"**What's on the paper? That could be a clue," Matt added.**

**Kitty pursed her lips. "I didn't look—yet. I wanted to show it to you exactly as I found it in case it's something…well, something important."**

"**Then let's open it and solve the mystery." Matt pulled out his pocket knife to cut the string.**

"**Don't cut it." She handed the balloon over to him, adding, "Just loosen the knot, and I'll pick it out."**

"**Suit yourself." He slipped the point of the knife under the tiny, tight knot and lifted it slightly. **

**She sat down close beside him, her thigh brushing his beneath the table. "That's far enough. I can take it from here." She took the balloon from his big hand, picked at the string for a minute, and then carefully unrolled the tightly scrolled paper, her sapphire eyes skimming each line as it came into view. "It's a letter. It's mostly in…well, I guess it's Spanish…and it's to Santa Claus—I think." **

**Doc spoke up. "What makes you think it's to Santa?"**

"**Well, the part I can read is a list, and it's nearly Christmas, so…. It says:**

**Dolly**

**Book**

**Ring with red stone**

**And it's signed 'Serena Azevedo,' but I can't read the rest of it." She sighed, and when she spoke again, her tone was as deflated as the balloon in her hand. She glanced gloomily at the men on her left and right. "I don't suppose either of you reads Spanish?" **

**To her surprise, Matt reached again for the letter. "Couple words. Let me take a look." He studied the printed letters carefully, trying to recognize familiar words among them. "It's not exactly to Santa, Kitty. It's an old Mexican custom for children to write letters to**_**los Reyes Magos**_**—The Magi—asking for the presents they want. They go into their town's plaza and attach the letters to balloons. Then they release them, and the balloons float off, carrying the children's wishes with them." **

**Kitty stared at him in amazement. "And you would know this—how?"**

"**Spent a lot of years riding the border. It wasn't unusual for Steban and me to see these things in fields or caught up in tree branches. Steban told me about the custom." He paused a moment, remorse in his eyes for the old friend he had been forced to kill years before. Then he pushed his hat back and smiled at her. "Those wishes go wherever the wind takes them."**

"**And it brought this one to my balcony—from hundreds of miles away."**

**Matt shook his head. "Not necessarily. There are some migrant Mexican families out on the prairie. They come up here every summer to work the fields. Some choose not to go home after the harvest. Others can't afford to."**

**Kitty stared at the letter again. "So Serena might be a little girl right here in Dodge—or close by—whose family could use some help." ****Kitty's eyes began to dance. "Oh, Matt, ****find this little girl and her parents so we can give them a proper Christmas."**

"**Now, Kitty, I'm not sure…" he began, but then took a look at her excited face. "What's the name on the letter again?"**

"**Azevedo. Serena Azevedo."**

"**You ever heard of 'em, Doc?"**

**The physician shook his head. "Name's not familiar, but about a year ago, I treated a bunch of little Mexican kids for whooping cough—migrant camp up north of Fort Dodge. Nice, hard-working bunch of people with a slew of kids—but I think they all pulled out." Doc swiped at his mustache and continued. "Say, you know, you could take this letter over to Miguel at Delmonico's. He's been cooking there ever since that little restaurant of his closed up a few years back. He might know something about them—or at least be able to tell you exactly what the letter says."**

**Kitty jumped up and pressed her lips against the top of Doc's gray head. "You're a genius, Curly!" She grabbed the letter, re-folded it, and again tucked it into her pocket before dancing off.**

"**Hey," Matt called after her. "What about me? I helped, too!"**

**She grinned back at him over her shoulder. "Oh, I'll thank **_**you**_**, later, Cowboy!"**

**GSGSGSGSGS**

**Miguel didn't know the Azevedo family, but he read the letter to Kitty, verifying that little Serena, who was eight years old, did live in a small migrant camp near Fort Dodge with her parents and younger sister. She was asking **_**los Reyes Magos**_** to bring her the presents previously listed, especially the ring, which was the gift she wanted more than anything else in the whole world. For her little sister, Helena, she wanted a dolly and **_**cintas para el cabello**_**—ribbons for her hair. Serena explained in her letter that she wasn't certain if **_**los Reyes **_**in Kansas spoke Spanish or English, so she was listing her wishes in both languages, just to be sure. **

"**Hedging her bets. Maybe I should offer her a job at the tables." Kitty laughed as she thanked Miguel for his help and walked toward the jail.**

**GSGSGSGSGS**

"**Please, Matt. Can't you ride out to look for them and invite them—everyone at the camp—to the Christmas Party?"**

"**Kitty, it's too…"**

"**With seven orphans already invited, what's another child or so?"**

"**But, Kitty…"**

"**If you can't go yourself, send Festus or Newly to take the invitation. Maybe Miguel should go along to make sure they understand everything."**

"**Kitty, it isn't just…"**

"**Good, it's all settled, then. Thanks, Matt."**

**The big man shrugged helplessly as he watched his red-headed dervish whirl away in a frenzy of excitement and activity as she headed across the street to Mr. Jonas' store. She had shopping to do. **

**And that afternoon Matt and Miguel rode out, two men on a Christmas mission.**

**GSGSGSGSGS**

**Two nights later, the Long Branch was transformed. A tree stood decorated beneath the staircase, and the sweet scents of cinnamon and balsam replaced the usual stench of stale beer and smoke. Beneath the tree, a multitude of gaily wrapped packages covered the scuffed floor. Squeals of childish delight mingled with hearty adult laughter, and the glow from countless candles and lanterns spilled onto Front Street, brightening the dark night. **

**Kitty looked up at Matt. "Well, the orphans are here, but where are the Mexican children? I really wanted them to come."**

"**Give them time, Kitty. The party's just getting started. They can still get here."**

"**Oh, I hope you're right, Matt." **

**Even as they spoke, the front door opened for a guest to enter, and in the distance, the ****echo of voices could be heard, carried on the cold night air that swept across the prairie and into the little town. As the sound drew nearer, the words were strange and unfamiliar, but the tune was one they all knew:**

_**O, pueblecito de Belén, cuán quieto tú estás.  
Los astros en silencio dan su bella luz en paz.  
Mas en tus calles brilla la luz de redención  
que da a todo hombre la eterna salvación.**_

**Nearer still the voices came, and then a wagon overflowing with adults and children became identifiable in the lamplight—the migrant families singing one of the most beloved of all the carols, "O, Little Town of Bethlehem."**

**Matt grinned down at Kitty and slipped an arm around her waist. "Looks like you got your wish."**

**Red curls bobbing, she nodded and flung the doors wide just as the wagon pulled up to the saloon and half a dozen excited and chattering children tumbled out, their eyes widening in wonder as they spotted the tree, the packages and the table laden with cakes and cookies.**

**Before long the jingle of sleigh bells was heard, and Santa appeared, his eyes twinkling with glee, his cheeks ruddy and warm. The sack on his back was overflowing with toys, and he called each of the children by name: Mary, Patricia, Jenny and Jake, Owen, Michael and Tom, Helena, Eduardo, Ricardo, Serena, Manuel and Maria.**

**Miguel was there to assist with translation, but giggles and smiles are the same in any language, and within minutes the two groups of children were playing together like old friends, delighted with their gifts of carved wooden toys, spinning tops, dolls, hair ribbons, warm mittens and scarves, Jacob's ladders, marbles and books. And, of course, there was a special present for Serena, whose yellow balloon to the Magi had started the whole thing—a small gold ring with the tiniest of red stones—not a gift bought from Wilbur Jonas' General Store, but one carefully chosen from Kitty's own abundant collection of jewelry.**

**As the evening wore on, Matt and Kitty stood apart from the crowd**** enjoying the nearness of each other and watching the happy, slightly chaotic scene that was the children's Christmas party. Then she stretched upward as far as she could, and Matt bent his head toward hers. His big hand splayed across the smooth red silk of her back, and their cups of Christmas cheer touched in a toast.**

**"Merry Christmas, Cowboy."**

**"Merry Christmas, Kitty."**

**Her lips brushed his rugged cheek in the gentlest of kisses, and two sets of blue eyes glowed warmly with love and anticipation of a very private Christmas celebration yet to come.**

**The End**

**Note: This story was inspired by a recent article in my local newspaper about a woman a few miles from here (Annapolis, MD) who found such a balloon in a field adjacent to her home. **


End file.
